This week, Kenneth Goldsmith made a strong case for post-Internet poetry, writing on Page-Turner that the form has come into its own. This should come as no surprise, given that the Internet is a text-based medium, driven by code. What did surprise me was that Goldsmith restricted his argument to printed matter: a three-part volume, a book-length confession, an anthology. (In the past, he has championed YouTube’s jejune bard of ranting, Steve Roggenbuck.) The most radical aspect of post-internet art isn’t that it infiltrates old-media institutions like books and galleries; it’s that, as it does so, it continues to proliferate online like Tribbles on Star Trek. As part of its current triennial, the New Museum tapped the British poet Harry Burke to organize a series of Web-only projects by six other poets: Alex Turgeon, Penny Goring, Tan Lin, Ye Mimi, Melissa Broder, and the collective not I. A new piece is released every Monday, through April 6th. No bookshelf required. (Be warned, this week’s offering, Gorin’s “Deletia—Self Portrait with No Self,” is a tad NSFW.)—Andrea K. Scott

Even museums continued entering the fray, whether it was MoMA’s ongoing acquisition and preservation of seminal, old-school video games, Tate’s recent Minecraft maps that allow viewers to experience virtual artworks, ZKM’s newly re-opened permanent exhibition of video games, or Rhizome and the New Museum’s announcement this November that they planned to preserve and present three 1990s CD-ROM games by Theresa Duncan.

By following trending topics, presenting herself in easily digestible, fairly vapid, and polished stereotypes and other "shortcuts to popularity," Ulman amassed 65,000 followers on Instagram. Her posts and interactions with "fans" have been preserved by Rhizome's new archiving tool, for generations to come. Yikes.

But the games business' particular fixation on newness and "innovation" mustn't divorce us from our obligation to history -- that's what makes Rhizome's work with Duncan's oeuvre more important now than ever.

In the early 1990s, when the most popular CD-ROM game for girls was Barbie Fashion Designer—which outsold Quake in 1992—Chop Suey, Smarty, and Zero Zero spoke to young girls' imaginations. The games were screwy, wonderful, and visionary. In 2014, they’re something even more significant: a reminder that intelligent gaming by and for women is part of our collective digital history, as long as we remember to preserve it.

GeoGoo uses the familiar interface of Google Maps (familiar to those of us naviga- tionally deficient and of a certain age—south say, of fifty) to throw the user into a tangled assault of spiraling and geometrical icons that populate and overrun various geographic locations like a cartographer’s nightmare. GeoGoo is the work of net art pioneers JODI, the winners of the inaugural Prix Net Art launched by Rhizome.

So thank you, Rhizome, for planning an exhibition into gaming’s foggy past. Part one: they’re hosting a Kickstarter to bring back Chop Suey—and two other games designed with the help of Theresa Duncan, Smarty (1996) and Zero Zero (1997)—to play in an online exhibition about feminist gaming. Part two: Duncan’s games will be free (hooray), and available on any modern browser via emulation.

According to the Entertainment Software Association, as quoted recently by the New York Times Magazine, nearly half of all gamers are female, though the majority of employed developers are male. With more experimental, powerful, and intimate game projects like Porpentine's, and open-source game-creating platforms like Twine becoming more known, it's a good time to be reminded of Duncan's pioneering work from a decade ago is as relevant as ever.

That's why Rhizome, a NYC-based nonprofit digital arts organization, has taken to Kickstarter to raise the funds they need to preserve these important artifacts. As Rhizome curator Michael Connor explains, their interest and investment in preserving Theresa's work is doublefold, because "they are an excellent example of the lyrical possibilities of the CD-ROM, and important, overlooked works by women—and I also want people, especially girls, to be able to explore and enjoy them again."

Other than the most recent image she posted—an Instagram advisory she received about not posting photos that are against the app's "Terms of Service," with the caption "Glad @rhizomedotorg archived it all"—she gives no indication that @amaliaulman is a conceptual art piece.

The non-profit arts organisation was concerned that online art could disappear at the whims of its host site or went through a dramatic redesign (think Friendster or Myspace). Colloq works by replicating the basic interface of apps such as Instagram with a few modifications – you can't, for instance, scroll past the first image of the piece.

How do you capture and preserve the experience of a new media artwork created on Twitter in 2010? How do you re-create the design and feel of Twitter’s interface at that time, and populate that interface with users’ contemporaneous profile photos? These are the types of questions that New York’s digital art nonprofit Rhizome is trying to answer in the development of Colloq, a new conservation tool that will help artists preserve social media projects not only by archiving them, but by replicating the exact look and layout of the sites used, and the interactions with other users.

What makes the Internet special is the ability to delve into the details or follow odd little side roads. On Facebook, that might mean a detour to see the wedding photos of a long-lost friend, or read a heartfelt essay on the death of a parent, or follow the public conversations on topics like the Ebola virus.
Right now, there’s no way to preserve that kind of complex, immersive experience. But Rhizome, a New York nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting and conserving digital artwork, is trying to build a new kind of data recorder to do just that.

[Miranda July's] app, Somebody, is a human messaging service akin to a singing telegram. Users compose a note (often with stage directions) to a friend and send it off via cellphone. Another Somebody user, usually a stranger, delivers the message in person. The New Museum is one of several art institutions across the country that signed on as an official hotspot for the app. Ms. July’s discussion was part of the New Museum’s and Rhizome’s joint First Look series, which showcase original new work created for the web, through newmuseum.org and rhizome.org.